


Kiss away the Tears

by itsallinmyhead



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League of America (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Wonderbat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallinmyhead/pseuds/itsallinmyhead
Summary: After a series of hurtful relationships Diana Prince is a bit of a loner and the last thing she wants is a new man... Until Bruce Wayne comes looking for her. AU. WonderBat





	1. Chapter 1

AN: I used to write stories on this site when I was a teenager and obsessed with twilight and I kind of fell out of it for a while. I guess there weren't any other characters that really interested me. Anyway now I'm back with this story! It's set in an AU No one's a superhero, with powers. Everyone's human.

I just hope you like it, I'll try to upload every Sunday.

Chapter 1.

"Jesus Bruce, I've told you a million times, you can't just show up here whenever you want to see Helena. We have a custody agreement for a reason, it's Thursday it's not your time. You have her this weekend. You can give it to her then!"

"Selena, come on for god's sake it's her birthday, just let me in for five minutes, or let her come down. I won't take up much time at all." Bruce pleaded, but if it was anything he had in common with his ex-wife was that they could both be stubborn, to be honest, he was surprised that she'd even bothered to take his call. To say that their marriage had ended terribly, was the understatement of a century, but still he had hoped that by now they would've been able to work things out so they could amicably co-parent their daughter.

"Look if you like, I'll tell her that you said happy birthday but that's it. You can give her your gift when you pick her up on Saturday after her dancing lesson, ok? I have to get her ready we're going to the zoo." And with that the line went dead. Bruce groaned in frustration and resisted the urge to throw his phone at the wall. Why was she always so difficult? Being a parent was hard enough as it was - but with Selina Kyle for an ex-wife, it was the stuff of nightmares. She probably won't even tell Helena that I called, he thought as he walked out of the lobby back to his car.

His butler, Alfred was waiting for him with the car door opened, "I'm sorry Master Bruce," he frowned, as he read Bruce's face. No one knew him as well as Alfred did. Bruce settled into the back of his car, stoic. His usual bright eyes seemed steely as he glared up at the building.

"Well Alfred, I guess traditions can't change. The only birthday I've ever spent with my daughter was when she was born, why did we ever think that this would be different? "Bruce sighed, and pulled back the left sleeve of his Kevlar suit, great and now I'm late, for my meeting too.

"Her birthday will be on a weekend when she turns six, Sir. Something to look forward to, perhaps?" The younger man, shot Alfred a warning look in the rear view mirror. He knew Alfred meant well, but being told that he'd have to wait two years wasn't exactly a comforting thought. His daughter was the one ray of light that shined through the monotony of his life. He just didn't want to disappoint her, he wanted her to know that he was there for her. Always.

When he'd met Selina, he was just a sixteen year old boy depressed and working through the death of his parents. He'd been numb for so long, that when he first saw her, and her beauty stirred feelings deep inside of him, he was terrified. He wanted to run away and never see her again. But something about her called to him.

Being the son of the two wealthiest people in Gotham, Bruce was around his fair share of frauds and sycophants. People who saw him as a means to an end. But not Selina Kyle, she literally could not care less who he was, she was infuriatingly bossy and so brutally honest that at first he was taken aback.

But the more time they spent together, the more he realised that she was just as scared as he was... That her brashness was just a way to survive. She was a thing of beauty, and she chose him. He remembered thinking he was the luckiest guy in the world, everywhere she went people couldn't help but fall in love with her. Her wild curly hair that seemed to be even more strong willed that she was, her smooth brown skin and her body... oh god her body, she was petite but she had curves in all the right places.

It wasn't only her looks that captivated Bruce however, she was fierce, passionate and smart. She helped him grow so much when they were together. He went from being, the mousy boy, that no one took seriously to being one of the most charismatic and well respected businessmen in America. Unfortunately as they grew older they grew apart; they loved and they fought with the same passion and intensity. A bitterness began to settle between them, they said too many things they didn´t mean and hardly anything that they did.

By the time their daughter was born, she was the only thing that they had in common.

They fought about every single decision that they had to make for their baby girl. Bruce realized that the only way they could make it work for her was if they weren't together.

Selena made the first move and her lawyer showed up with divorce papers. He couldn't come to terms with the fact that she didn't want him anymore, he didn't even understand why he was so shocked. He'd known for months it was over but still, the request shook his very core. He felt, betrayed that she wanted to leave him that she had the audacity to ask for full custody granting him visitation only.

She was not taking his child.

He would never forgive himself for that day. He'd gone to the liquor cabinet and in a fit of rage emptied two bottles of Lagavulin. He could barely stand or see, but he drove off to his daughter's day-care and grabbed her out of school, she was only one year old, and the shouts between her father and the school security scared her to tears.

Bruce thought he'd fastened her in her car seat, but he was so drunk that he didn't realize that she was standing in the backseat crying. He mashed his foot on the pedal and there was a sudden thud, and crushing sound as he'd collided with the wall of the parking lot before him.

Next thing, he remembered was that bright, sterile light. Was he dead? He had to be. His head was thumping, each pulsation felt like it was excruciatingly splitting open his skull. Alfred appeared next to him, and Bruce couldn't quite make out if he was angry or worried.

The old man spoke through gritted teeth, "Are you pleased with yourself? Next time you decide to try to get yourself killed, leave Helena out of it."

Bruce groaned, the pain in his head was disorientating, "Alfred, what are you talking about?"

"Helena is in the ICU, the bones in her right arm are shattered, her skull is fractured, one of her ribs is broken as well and it punctured her lung! She needs a machine to breathe Bruce, what on earth were you thinking?"

He remembered when he saw her, the plastic tube disappearing down her throat, she looked so small... So frail. Seeing Helena like that made his stomach drop. It felt heavy, like if he'd eaten lead, and the weight just pulled him down and down until his legs gave out.

He remembered Selina screaming at him so loud that the hospital officials escorted him out of the children's ward so that she would calm down.

What had he done?

\- o - o -

Bruce shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Alfred drove on, he reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out the picture of his daughter that he carried everywhere with him. Her smile, made him melt every time he saw her. She was so beautiful, and looked so much like her mother, the only feature she took from Bruce were his green eyes.

This photo sometimes made him think that that day was just a terrible dream that he needed to forget and if he almost would have been able to forget were it not for the scar that zigzagged from the arch of her right brow and disappeared into her hairline.

"Step on it, Alfred, we're already late for the appointment with the Realtor." He growled, as he tucked the photo back into his pocket.

"Thanks so much, for letting us use your house for the party, Ms. Prince I could never thank you enough." Etta Candy pulled her son Thom up on her knee as she smiled kindly at the older woman.

Hippolyta waved her hand, "It was no trouble at all you can have all of Thomas' birthday parties here if you like. You know I love children and I'm just patiently waiting for Diana to give me a grand-baby." she chuckled.

"Don't start mom." Diana warned as she removed the empty dessert plates from the coffee table then disappeared into the kitchen.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Diana, I'm sorry. Now would you please stop cleaning and sit down and talk with us?" her mother called, shooting Etta a sad look.

Diana walked over to her mother and best friend taking the free space on the couch next to the older woman. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, careful not to sit too close to her mother, she smiled uncomfortably at her best friend.

"This is how normal people live, isn't this nice, Diana?" Her mother sighed, as she ran her fingers through her daughter's long, shiny, black hair

Her daughter shrunk away from her touch and Hippolyta felt a small pain in her chest.

"What time's your flight back to the city?" Etta asked, trying to make eye contact with her friend.

Diana had changed so much. Now it was like she was almost a shell of the woman that she'd known and loved since freshman year of college. She used to be the happiest person in the room. And now... Etta wondered how a woman who used to be the epitome of confidence could seem so small.

"Umm late... I'm taking the red eye. I want to spend some time with her." She gestured to her mother next to her.

"Oh great now, I'm the burden." her mother rolled her eyes, taking her sip of wine from the glass in front of her.

"You're not a burden." Diana said shooting her mother an apologetic look, but her voice was rough and agitated, she started tearing the napkin she was holding into strips. "I'm sorry, ok?"

Etta sensing that the mother and daughter needed sometime alone quietly excused herself, to get Thomas' and her things for them to leave. She made a mental note to call the cleaning service when she got home to make sure that they hadn't forgotten their appointment to clean up after the party.

Ms. Prince busied herself clearing all of the stray dishes around the living room as the girls said their goodbyes.

"I barely hear from you anymore, you know you can call me anytime," Etta looked into her friends eyes, they were both standing in the doorway facing each other, but from Diana´s body language it almost seemed like a whole continent was between them. "Really Di, I'm never too busy for you, anything you ever need... just call."

Diana smiled sadly as one lone tear glided down her face. "I know, I'm sorry..." she sighed, angry at herself, "I'm a shitty person."

"You're not shitty, you're just going through something. I just wish you'd talk to me. It's ok to let people in once in a while."

Diana wiped her tear away with her cardigan sleeve and painted on a fake smile. "I love you guys so much," she placed a chaste kiss on her three year old, nephew's cheek and squeezed her friend's hand reassuringly. "I'll try to do a better job of staying in touch ok?"

Etta wasn't fooled, but decided to let it go sensing that Diana was trying to get rid of her and with one last worried look, she left.

\- o - o -

Diana and her mother spent the evening, watching sitcom re-runs and finishing the bottle of red wine, that Diana had gifted her. As she took the last sip from her glass she could feel her mother's eyes on her.

"What is it?" she asked, looking across the room to the oversized leather couch where her mother was sitting.

"Baby, I just worry about you living all alone out in Gotham. I wish you would call more often, then I could help with whatever´s happening to you. I can help... we used to talk about everything." She could see her mother fighting to hold back tears, her lower lip quivering.

Shit.

She rushed over to the couch and wrapped her arms around her mother. She hated seeing her upset, she hated ever more that her mother only ever became upset because of her.

"Please don't cry mom." She said as she held her mother to her, she could feel her body shaking as she sobbed. She sat back and looked her mother in the eyes, gently wiping the older woman's tears away. "Look mom," she sighed, "Maybe I'm not the happiest person on earth, but it's not your fault ok? Nothing is." She pulled her mother into her arms once again.

Her eye caught her reflection in the large gilded mirror across the room behind her mother and, came face to face with herself. Is this what she'd become? That person who was so unbearable that she just pushed away the only people who cared about her? That person that caused people pain? She didn't even know who she was anymore, she looked hollow, like everything inside that made her who she really was, was gone.

Sure on the outside she seemed the same... she had appearances to keep up after all. She was still beautiful, her lilac eyes, full red lips and extremely feminine curves made it hard for her to be ignored, but something was missing, the spark that made her eyes shine and that kept her spirit alive. She wasn´t even sure that she knew how to get it back.

By the time her driver had arrived to take her to the airport her mother had fallen asleep on the couch. She looked so peaceful, that Diana couldn´t bear the thought of waking her to say goodbye. So instead she wrote a note:

Mom, I love you more than you know,

I'll visit again for the holidays

We'll talk about what I've been going through then.

\- D

\- o – o -

As a young girl, Diana and her mother traveled extensively. Hippolyta loved seeing new places and new cultures and as the only heiress to a sizeable family fortune, she dedicated her life to this cause. So with her young daughter in tow, they visited everywhere that they could.

Diana's favourites were the rainforests of the West African countries, she loved to draw and paint and for her they held an endless source of inspiration. She'd often curl up under her mother's arm and paint for hours, while Hippolyta's nose was in a book. And in those moments everything was perfect, just both of them and the comforting silence of the love between mother and daughter.

When they day came that Diana decided to go to university, neither she nor her mother knew which one of them the change would be harder for. And although Hippolyta's heart was breaking knowing that her daughter was going to be away she knew she had to stay strong for the both of them.

The transition for Diana was easier than she'd expected. She quickly settled into her life at the University of Paris and she blossomed. She loved her classes, and although she still drew all the time, she began to centre her coursework more on the educational side of Art. She volunteered a couple of times a week at elementary schools and found that there was nothing she loved more than sharing her passion with kids. They were always so eager to learn and fearless in the bold strokes that they would make with their pens on paper.

If Hippolyta noticed a change in her daughter, she accepted without hesitation. It was so amazing to see her usually quiet and reserved daughter, become outgoing and open. She noticed the difference in her clothing too. Gone were, the frumpy sweaters and baggy jeans, in their place were form fitting sweaters, A-line skirts and Louboutin heels. Her daughter had always been beautiful, but now… the combination of her confidence, her fashion and her talent made her mother beam with pride whenever she spoke about her. It was no surprise that her daughter had started dating, and thanks to her good looks and her roommate, Etta's, determination to find Diana the perfect partner she never had to worry about being asked out.

But Diana was picky and she would never stay with one person for too long, she'd call her mother up with stories of what happened and Hippolyta would laugh at her daughter's dramatizations of what went wrong, or comfort her in the unlikely event that she was heartbroken. Diana had been so adamant that she'd never find someone that she could settle down with, she wasn't sad about it, she was vehemently independent and truly didn't feel that there was one person out there for her. Her mother had pointed out to her that she was too young and she didn't know what she was talking about.

Then that Christmas, while visiting with her mom for the holidays, Diana introduced her mother to Steve Trevor and Hippolyta had to stop herself from saying I told you so.

\- o – o -

The flight back to Gotham left Diana alone and at peace just the way she liked it. And she would´ve enjoyed it too were it not for her brain replaying the day's events over and over. She could´ve handled so many things that happened during the day a lot better. But something about being around her family made her retreat so far inside. To be fair, she was very reserved around strangers as well, but more so with her family because they knew her, and they made her feel exposed. They meant well, but self-preservation was not easy and since him... she shuddered as she unfolded the blanket on the seat next to her.

She sighed, as she booted up her laptop to see what was on the agenda when she got back to Gotham. A lot of her emails were the usual, recruitment meetings with new artists and suggestions for upcoming exhibitions.

Then there was the email from Richard Grayson, 'the personal assistant to Bruce Wayne,' she read.

She sat back and tucked her legs up under the blanket, there was no way that she was reading correctly.

Apparently Mr. Wayne had recently purchased a new apartment near the Harbour and wanted some art pieces to decorate. He was only free to come in person today (Monday) at 10.00 am, to get a tour of the gallery to pick out whatever he liked. She bit her lip so that she didn't scream in excitement, this is exactly what she needed. She could picture it now, her gallery, 'The Themyscira Collection', being heavily featured in a spread in Architectural Digest and business booming. It´s exactly what she´d been working for all these years. Her art gallery was born out of an immense need to share what she loved the most with people, and now maybe all of the work that her colleagues and her and put in over the years was finally about to pay off.

\- o - o -

AN: Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Bruce Wayne was incredibly rich. It was, usually, the first thing that people mentioned about him whenever he was the topic of conversation. At 12 years old his parents were brutally murdered before his eyes, but all people seemed to remember was the vast empire they left behind for their only son. It wasn't until they met him, that they noticed something else.

Bruce Wayne was big.

At 6'3" tall he would've commanded attention anyway, but when paired with the fact that he kept his body in prime physical form, his presence was intimidating and that was just the way he liked it. The citizens of Gotham politely stepped aside whenever he walked the streets. In the boardroom his clients and associates were quietly respectful in his presence. He was very intelligent. With his expertise being actuary science, whenever he looked over the company's figures, it was impossible to get anything past him. His college friends at Gotham University, used to joke that he was like a mental minesweeper, but in truth, he was just very good at paying attention to detail. A skill that was refined years ago when he was obsessed with figuring out the details of the mystery of his parents' death.

Above all however, his defining characteristic was that he was incredibly handsome. The Gotham tabloids, made it a point of discussion. With his chiselled jaw, dark hair and brooding nature, there was ere of mystery about him. But despite the fact that he was Gotham's most eligible bachelor, he led a simple life governed by routine. He went to the Wayne Enterprises every day, often had lunch with his colleague Lucius Fox, worked out at his fitness club, had drinks sometimes after work with his best friend Clark, and most importantly spent his weekends with his daughter. It was very rare that he spent a morning, like today, at the art gallery.

Selina had offhandedly joked one day when he returned Leni that he could see her more often if he lived in the city instead of far out in the Manor. He knew she probably didn't actually mean it, but he figured that maybe she was onto something. It was annoying dealing with rush hour every day, and well, if he could be nearer to Helena, why not? So, he decided to purchase a condo a few blocks away from his ex-wife. Being brand new, it was pitifully stark and completely void of any personality, so he hired an interior designer who handed him a business card for an Art Gallery called 'The Themyscira Collection'. This way, she'd explained, he could pick out what he liked. Normally he wouldn't have gone himself, but the name intrigued him, he wanted to see what it was about.

As he crossed the threshold into the gallery, his senses were bathed with stimulation. There was calming oriental music playing in the background and natural light coming in from the skylight above, beautiful art hanging on the walls and ... he inhaled deeply, what was that scent? Frankincense? He stood quietly for a moment taking everything in when a voice broke him out of his trance.

A woman was standing in front of him with her right hand extended. Bruce couldn't help but blush at being caught off guard.

"I'm so sorry, I was uh - distracted there for a sec," he smiled taking her soft hand in his shaking it gently. The woman smiled brightly, at the way his face twisted when she realised she was standing there. Bruce couldn't help but notice her outfit, she looked like if she'd stepped out of a free people photoshoot. He stealthily appraised her flowy maxi dress. It was cream with gold embroidering, the fabric draped around her figure exquisitely. Her long black hair was braided with loose curls framing her face.

"Good Morning, Mr Wayne I'm so happy to have you here. My name's Diana Prince, I'm the curator of this gallery. If you have any questions or problems at all please, feel free to signal any one of the attendants," she gestured to man and woman standing nearby, "they'd be very happy to help."

"It's nice to meet you Ms Prince," he smiled still awkwardly shaking her hand, she couldn't help but notice how straight his teeth were. "I'm just a bit confused, I thought I was to be given a tour."

"Oh?" Diana, pulled her hand away. "I had no idea, I'm sorry, they didn't put that in the email, I suppose I could give you one myself." She looked flustered, no one had told her it was to be a tour. She figured like every other client Mr Wayne would just walk around and ask questions if he had any.

Bruce watched her smile fade with concern, "I'm sorry. You don't have to go out of your way. I must've gotten my information wrong." He ran his hands through his hair smiling sheepishly and Diana's eyes caught the way his bicep bulged under the sleeve of his white shirt. Mr Wayne was in very good shape and, as a warm blooded woman, Ms Prince would be remiss not to notice.

"No come on. I'll show you around it's no trouble just… unexpected." she gestured for one of her assistants to come over, handing him a folder that she had tucked under her arm. "Jason, take this and get it delivered to the curator of the Gotham Modern Art Museum, asap ok? It's really important." The young man nodded and walked off. "After you Mr Wayne." She said, directing him to the entrance of the exhibit.

Bruce knew it wasn't very good of him to not pay attention to a single word coming out of Ms. Prince's mouth, but he couldn't help himself. For the first five minutes of the tour he'd tried, but she was just so captivating that truly he was more interested in watching her than the art. He noticed the way she would curl her index around her upper lip whenever she waited for him to appraise a sculpture or painting she'd just introduced him to. Then the way her eyes that lit up whenever she spoke about a specific piece that she loved.

What colour was that?

She turned her body to face him and he quickly averted his gaze pretending to look at the painting.

Great, now I'm turning into a creep.

"Are you ok?" she asked. Bruce turned towards her and their eyes met, she looked down shyly.

"Uh – yeah?"

"You seem distracted, you can tell me if I'm boring you. I get excited about this stuff. I go on for too long sometimes." She bit down on her full lower lip. Bruce couldn't help but notice how pink they were.

God who is this woman?

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something is all. I didn't mean to seem rude." He looked around the room for a distraction. He remembered a painting that had caught his eye in the waiting room. He walked over to the far side of the room and pointed through the doorway to it. "I was actually thinking about this one. I think it's the most beautiful one here." She walked over to look at what he was showing.

"Oh, this one isn't actually for sale, that's why it's not in the showroom with the others. It isn't even the real painting it's a print." She touched the clear glass pane that protected the painting, "See? It wouldn't be covered in glass if it was the original."

"Well, where's the original? Can you put me in contact with the artist? I'd love to buy it." He truly did like it. It was an abstract of a forest with the sun's rays peering through the leaves of the trees. It was calming, though he honestly couldn't tell if it was actually the painting, the frankincense or Diana was having this effect on him.

She tucked an errant curl behind her ear, "Umm, I'm the artist actually." She looked down at the floor biting her lip again. Bruce wanted to reach out and gently release it from her teeth.

"Oh, wow that's amazing. You're really talented, how come there isn't more of your work displayed here."

Her face flushed, and she awkwardly looked down and the floor shaking her head no. "I umm... don't sell my stuff... I used to once..." she stammered, "...not anymore... sorry."

Diana internally rolled her eyes mentally berating herself. Why was it so hard for her to have a normal conversation with people?

Bruce looked concerned, if he'd known that her art was a sensitive topic he obviously wouldn't have brought it up. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I don't know the protocol of these places, usually my decorator gets this stuff for me. I wasn't even going to come, the name intrigued me, that's all." He watched her closely. Her face seemed to go through the spectrum of human emotion as she chose her next words.

"You don't have to apologise, it's not very often that people notice the paintings in the waiting room. We change them every month. It's usually just to celebrate the talent of the employees here." She gave him a smile of good faith before looking down at her watch. "I'm so sorry but I'm supposed to meet up with an artist in twenty minutes. I don't want to rush you, if you'd like to look around longer I can have someone else come over or anything you like."

In all honesty, Diana didn't have anywhere to go, but there was something about the thoughtful way that Mr. Wayne looked at her that got under her skin. She felt like if he was looking into her soul. If she wasn't herself, she would've realised that he was just trying to be nice. But she was indeed Diana Prince and those beautiful green eyes of his made her uncomfortable.

"Uhh, I guess I'll still look around. My decorator won't be pleased if I don't have anything to show for this trip." He chuckled. Diana just looked at him strangely. "Joke sounded better in my head." he explained sheepishly and she indulged him with a dry hesitant laugh. "I guess I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah of course, take this in case you have any questions." she peeled the case of her phone off, slipped a finger under and pulled out a black business card. "It's my cell number, you know... just in case."

Bruce looked down at the card like if she'd given him the Holy Grail. It was her personal phone number.

That had to mean something, right?

"Well, I'll see you around." and with a small wave Ms Prince was gone leaving Bruce standing there with an amused expression on his face. Smiling he shook his head and walked back into the showroom.

\- o - o -

Later that afternoon, Bruce, tried his best to get some work done after his trip to the gallery, but couldn't. His mind kept going back to Ms Prince. She intrigued him. He desperately wanted to find any reason to call her. He'd put her business card into his suit pocket earlier and now it was like if it was burning a hole in his jacket. He was painfully aware of its presence and itching to take it out. In desperate need of a distraction, he'd texted his best friend to see if he was available to meet up for drinks.

Clark could tell instantly that Bruce was more distracted than usual and after unrelentingly asking him what was troubling him, Bruce finally told his friend about Ms Prince.

"I totally think you're seeing way too much into this." Clark Kent chuckled as he took another swig from his pint of Guinness. "You're buying art from her art gallery, she's in charge of said art gallery, and she just gave you her card as a formality. It may be hard to believe but not every woman out there is trying to date you." His best friend teased, a mischievous smile on his face.

Bruce rolled his eyes. They, were seated at their usual table in the 'Arkham Asylum', their favourite spot. It gave them a perfect view of the television screen where the Gotham U game was on, but they were so engrossed in conversation that neither was paying attention.

The Pub's name made it seem like it was the edgiest place in town, but it was just an old psychiatric clinic that had been closed. It was later purchased and repurposed into what was now a very popular hangout spot amongst the professionals that worked nearby. He and Clark had been meeting here for years, since their Gotham University days.

On paper, one could see how unlikely a friendship it was. Clark had been raised on a humble farm in Kansas in the most typical nuclear family that there ever was and Bruce was the boy billionaire. But when they became roommates all those years ago they just clicked. Clark was easy to be around. He was just genuinely a good guy and always knew how to get Bruce not to take himself too seriously.

Clark Kent was a journalist at the daily planet, the major local newspaper. He'd originally gone to university on a football scholarship with the hopes of going pro one day, until a knee injury put that dream to bed. The way he saw it, writing about sports was the next best thing.

"I thought you were seeing, Vicky anyway? You said you had fun together."

"Vicky Vale! You're asking me about Vicky Vale? She's so not my type." Bruce seemed offended by his question. Clark couldn't help but laugh loudly at his friend's sudden outburst.

"She's not your type?" Bruce shook his head seriously and Clark laughed out even louder. "Literally a week ago, you said the sex was amazing... You bought her new furniture!"

"I bought her a new bed because we broke her old one." he said matter-of-factly, "And jeez! Do you think you could talk any louder?" Bruce looked around suspiciously to see if anyone overheard them. "Look she's not the one for me... She wouldn't stop texting me all day – about the dumbest shit too. Like a teenager! And she kept referring to my daughter as, Trudy."

Clark almost choked on his drink, he was laughing so hard. "Well did you at least correct her?" He knew it was only a matter of time before things went south with Vicky and Bruce. Since Selina, all of his relationships did. Vicky would go on to tell the tale of how she dated the Bruce Wayne for a month. And well, at least she got a new bed out of it.

"I did... Multiple times." he replied dryly before emptying his glass of beer. "You want to get another round?" he offered.

"Nah, I shouldn't... don't want to be late. Lois is getting back from her trip tonight. I'm not about to do anything that could make her even remotely mad. I can't wait to bring her home it's been so long. I need a good..." he sighed trailing off. It wasn't hard for Bruce to fill in the blanks. Lois was Clark's fiancée. She'd been away doing some investigative reporting in Ukraine for the past 3 weeks. Clark was very vocal about how much he missed her. He stood up, gathering his briefcase. "Want to meet up again on Friday?"

Bruce nodded patting his friend on his shoulder.

"See ya, Friday. Say hi to Lo for me."

"Sure, if you promise to say hi to Trudy for me!"

Bruce chuckled to himself as he walked out of the bar.

\- o - o -

A few days had gone by since Bruce Wayne had visited the gallery. Diana busied herself with work as she always did. Her assistant, Donna had told her that Mr Wayne had selected quite a few pieces. Diana tried to react nonchalantly, that way she thought, Donna wouldn't think she was behaving strangely.

At the time, Donna wanted to point out that nonchalance was strange behaviour for Diana, but elected not to, since whenever Mr Wayne's name was mentioned her boss would immediately become agitated.

Ms Prince had initially berated herself for giving Mr Wayne her phone number thinking that he would only use it to call her and ask her out - men always did.

She'd decided that a date with Bruce Wayne was the last thing she wanted anyway. It was no secret that he had a bit of a reputation as a playboy - even she wasn't immune to gossip. What surprised her however, was that instead of speaking with her, he'd elected to have his assistant call the gallery line to finalise his purchases. She hadn't yet decided how she felt that he didn't call her directly, and because she couldn't decide, she couldn't stop thinking about him.

It was distracting.

But really, who could blame her? Mr Wayne was hot. It was the first time in a long time she'd been inspired enough by the male form enough to actually want to draw it. Any moment that she was alone she'd pull out her pencil and sketchbook and continue working on a drawing of him. In her picture, he was standing with the fingers of his right hand running through his hair, while his left was tucked into the front right pocket of his hands. His raised arm made his shirt come untucked exposing the skin of his lower stomach. She deftly shaded the outline of the taught v-line of muscle that she imagined was there, beneath his clothes, then pulled back to study it.

God, I really need to get laid.

It had been about 6 months since she'd stopped seeing her last partner, Jesse. They dated for over a year, and Jesse started asking Diana the hard questions, about marriage, children… moving in together. Diana didn't have the answers that Jesse wanted to hear so it ended.

Diana felt that she had the most rotten luck with relationships, but really she was guarded. Self preservation wasn't easy and whenever she let someone in, they left her broken. She didn't think that she had the strength to put her pieces back together anymore.

Maybe it would've been easier if it was like when she was back in college and had Etta to pair her up with someone.

Maybe Etta knew someone now...

She groaned and sat back in her armchair. Is this what she'd come to? Needing Etta to find her a date? Besides, she knew that her problem wasn't getting a date. It wasn't like she had a lack of offers. She just wasn't sure she was ready for the inevitable heartbreak that came with dating. She couldn't understand why relationships always had to end with pain. The rational part of her brain often reminded her that all relationships didn't have to end like that. But the way she saw it, sometimes survival was the only goal that you could set for yourself.

Diana was very good at surviving.

\- o – o -

A few days each week she taught an art class to the kindergarten kids at the pre-school a few blocks away from the gallery. It was part of a charity initiative that she'd launched hoping to play a role in getting more children in touch with their creative sides. For the most part she sang songs with them and guided them as they painted and at the end of every class she was always rewarded with the works of art that they created especially for their Miss Di. She decided that this year she was going to save their pictures and give them a special end of year exhibition during the holidays, so that their parents could see their beautiful work.

When she got back to the gallery, Donna was standing in the lobby, holding a large bouquet, in a vase of water.

"Wow, someone has an admirer!" Diana smiled as she watched the girl hobbling over to the front desk to put it down. Diana placed the kids' paintings on a nearby chair before rushing over to help her.

"They're not for me you know. A certain Mr. Wayne left them for you. You just missed him." Donna smiled knowingly, "He delivered them in person."

"Why didn't you tell him to wait?" Diana sighed regretfully as she and her assistant slid the vase onto the reception desk. Even she was surprised by the disappointment she felt for not seeing him.

"I tried, he said he didn't want to infringe on your Friday evening activities. He seemed disappointed not to see you, though. Why didn't you tell me that you started seeing him?" Donna perked up, eager for some gossip.

"I haven't." Diana replied, taking the card that came with the flowers from her assistant.

Donna just rolled her eyes, "Yeah right. Anyway, I'm just going to head out now if that's ok with you."

"Sure, see you." Diana said watching as the girl walked off. Once Donna was out of sight she read the card:

Ms. Prince I just wanted to thank you for everything,

If you ever need anything at all,

Don't hesitate to ask.

She must've reread the note at least five times, smiling to herself.

\- o – o-

Later that night Bruce had just finished up having drinks with Clark and was walking back to his car when he heard his phone ring. He quickly seated himself in the car and connected his hands-free receiver.

"Hello?" He answered roughly, it was almost 11pm and he was worried that it was Selina calling to say that something had happened with Helena. But it wasn't Selina, though, he couldn't quite recognise the woman's voice.

"Hello, is this Mr. Wayne?" she spoke hesitantly, shyly almost. When Bruce responded, she continued, "It's Diana – Ms. Prince. I'm sorry to call this late. I would've called earlier but I was… busy?" It came out more as a question and Diana wanted to bury herself in a hole for sounding so stupid.

"Oh Miss Prince! Is everything alright? You sound like if something's wrong." The uncertainty in her voice worried him.

"Oh no, nothing's wrong!" she added quickly. "I just wanted to thank you for the flowers. They're so beautiful… especially the irises. Thank You." Irises were her favourite, she wanted to ask him how he knew that but her voice caught in her throat.

He perked up relieved that she was ok but the hesitation in her voice still worried him a little. "Oh it's nothing, I just wanted to thank you for all your help on Monday. It was very… memorable." Now it was his turn to cringe at his choice of words.

"I thought that maybe, if you still wanted, I could give you my painting – just as a thank you. You remember? The one you liked? You could come by my place tomorrow and pick it up, say around midday?" She bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly while she waited for his response.

"On Saturdays I usually – " He stopped himself when she started apologising and telling him not to worry about it. She sounded disappointed and it gave him a strange ache in his chest. "No look, I'd love to come by, it'll just have to be super quick because I'm supposed to take my daughter to the park."

She released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and smiled, "Oh it's ok if you bring her along, it won't take long at all. I just wanted to thank you because, you seem like a nice person." She would've offered to let him collect it on another day as well, but she knew herself, if she hesitated she'd change her mind.

Bruce was pleasantly surprised by her admission, "I'm glad you feel that way, Ms. Prince. I really look forward for seeing you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow. I'll text you the address."

He couldn't stop the huge grin from forming on his face as quickly sent a text to Clark saying, 'I told you so'.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

"Daddy, I thought you said we were going to the park?" Helena sat up in her car seat and peered out of the window suspiciously noticing that her father had driven past her favourite park.

"We are baby, I just have to make a pit stop. It'll be really quick don't worry." He responded looking back at his daughter in the rear view mirror.

Leni groaned sitting back in the car seat. "We can't get home late ok? Grandpa Alfred said he was going to make cupcakes. You know he gets sleepy in the afternoon. I have to play tea party with him." She warned. Her expression made it seem like life or death.

Bruce laughed as he listened to his daughter. It was so like her to be thinking of Alfred's cooking and roping the poor old man into her games. He couldn't blame her, he remembered being just as excited about Alfred's cakes as a kid. Not to mention, Alfred was crazy about Helena. He would play with her for hours at a time.

Bruce glanced at his GPS navigator to see how far away they were from Miss Prince's house. He kept anxiously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel whenever he stopped at a traffic light, he was so excited to see her. If he thought that he was thinking about her a lot earlier in the week, he didn't know what to say about the amount of times that she popped into his head since last night. She was so mesmerising, everything that she did when they'd first seen each other intrigued him. Like the way she bit down on her lower lip… god those lips. The were so full and looked so soft and pink his mind often drifted to what it would be like to feel them on him, kissing him... trailing her kisses lower and lower… He'd had to take a cold shower this morning just to get that image out of his head.

He didn't only think about her body though. He thought about how talented and cultured and smart she was. He wanted to get to know her, talk to her ask her even the most mundane questions about her favourite food or favourite colour.

He remembered how she both seemed shy yet confident at the same time. He wondered what gave her the courage to call him. It wasn't that he thought that she was weak or anything. But rather, she seemed so unsure of herself and her voice was so small when they spoke that he thought calling him like that must've been out of character for her.

"We're here Leni." He announced as he pulled into a parking space.

She quickly unbuckled her seat-belt and waited for her father to come around and let her out.

Once the car was locked he made his way to the lobby of Diana's building with Helena skipping happily at his side. They walked up to the front desk and Bruce informed the receptionist that they were there to see Miss Prince.

The young man motioned for him to wait while he called up to Diana's apartment. After a short conversation, he told them that they could go up to the penthouse floor. Helena hurriedly skipped off to the elevator excitedly jumping up and down asking her dad to let her press the button.

Bruce didn't know what he thought Miss Prince's apartment would look like, but he couldn't help but think that it suited her perfectly. There were many large windows that bathed the rooms in natural light and plants scattered about adding a pop of green to an otherwise muted color scheme. Pale coloured fabrics were draped about and gold accents scattered throughout which made it seem very light and airy yet unmistakably feminine and regal.

When she entered the foyer where they were waiting Bruce had to stop himself from gasping. How was it possible that she was this effortlessly beautiful? She was wearing a short, pale pink play-suit showing off her long shapely legs and bare feet. Her wavy hair was pulled into a messy bun secured by a paint brush sticking through it and her hands were smudged with paint.

"Oh! It's Ms Di!" Helena squealed happy next to him pulling on his arm.

"Hey, Helena!" Diana smiled brightly. The little girl pulled her father along as she walked over to Diana.

What the hell is happening? Bruce thought. He rapidly turned his head back and forth between his daughter and Miss Prince, shocked. Diana looked on minutely worried he'd get whiplash.

"You know each other?" He asked, his head still bobbing back and forth.

"Ya! She teaches me to draw at school!" His daughter's face was contorted into a smile so bright that it looked painful.

Bruce was even more dumbfounded when Miss Prince hugged her and affectionately smoothed her puffy curls down.

"You know my daughter." He felt so lost that he couldn't stop himself from stating the obvious… she'd been so close all this time!

Diana released the little girl and smiled warmly at Bruce. "I mean... I didn't know she was your daughter, but yes I teach an art class to the kindergarten kids at her school a few days every week. Helena's really talented and a very good kid. You must be proud."

Bruce wondered if Diana could hear the wheels in his head turning slowly as he processed what was happening. He felt stupid. He'd heard Helena talk about 'Ms Di' before, honestly she hardly shut up about her when he asked his daughter about school... if only he'd known.

"Small world, I guess." he mused a smirk playing on his lips.

"Constantly getting smaller." She replied with a wink, still affectionately smoothing Leni's hair.

"Were you painting, can I see?" Leni chirped.

"Oh I don't know, Len, we really shouldn't intrude —"

"Nonsense, it's not an intrusion." She interrupted him and with a wave of her hand beckoned him to follow her so he did. As they walked he took in more and more of her apartment, she had a lot of photos hanging on the walls and on shelves. Some of her as a kid... with her friends...

One in particular stood out to him. In it she was with two other women and a man. They were all sitting on a picnic blanket under a tree. The four of them looked so natural that Bruce was certain that they didn't know their photo was being taken. An attractive, plump red headed woman was reclined propped up on her elbows captured mid conversation with an older lady. Her hair was greying and her features were marred by wrinkles, but the resemblance was striking, she was undoubtedly Diana's mother. But perhaps the most interesting part of the photo was Diana and the young man. He sat upright on the blanket with Diana wedged between his arms and legs. Her head was resting on his chest. She looked so happy and at peace. Bruce wondered if that was her boyfriend.

"Wow, it's amazing!" Helena's proclamation pulled him out of his mind and back to the situation at hand. He studied the painting she was looking at. She was right; it was amazing. It was still a work in progress though, a pond surrounded by wild flowers and overgrown bushes. "I wish I could paint as good as you." Helena pouted.

"You're very talented. All you have to do is keep practising, and let your imagination run wild." Diana responded gently. She was so sweet with his Leni that he understood why she loved her so much.

"Ms Prince is absolutely right, hon. You'll get better and better everyday." Bruce agreed.

"Please Bruce, call me Diana, Miss Prince makes me feel like my mother." She joked. Bruce was pleasantly surprised by her candidness. She seemed so shy when they spoke before, but now here, in her apartment she exuded a calm confidence. He liked this Diana, he wanted to know her even more now.

Leni tugged on his sleeve and he turned his head to look at her. "I wanna tell you a secret, dad." He obliged and bent down to put his ear near her mouth. Diana looked on curiously yet amused at how silly Bruce looked crouching his large frame next to his small daughter.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Len. I'm sure Diana, has things planned for her evening."

"Please, please, please." She begged looking up at him with the pout that she knew he could never refuse.

Bruce turned to Diana with a grimace on his face, exhaled loudly and stood up. "She wants to know if you'd like to have dinner with us." He explained, his face was still crinkled in embarrassment. He was certain she'd say no.

Diana's eyes widened in surprise. "I uh… I don't — Are you sure you want that Helena? I wouldn't be much fun."

"That's not true you're the best of fun! My Grandpa Alfred is the best cook in the world, you'll see. Please, please, please!" She begged again, jumping up and down.

"Ok! ok!" she agreed stretching the words out like if she was saying them for the first time. Bruce shot her a weak smile and she shrugged apprehensively. "Shall I show you your painting now?"

Bruce nodded and she beckoned him with her finger. He followed her to the far side of her studio, trying his hardest to look at anything but her behind.

But that ass and those shorts… he groaned when she stretched over her workbench to retrieve a medium sized canvas frame covered with muslin cloth. She set it down on an empty easel and then in one fluid motion she tugged on the cloth and uncovered the painting then stepped aside so he could look at it.

"It's really beautiful" He told her honestly, his eyes scanning the textures created by the oil paint. "The colors stand out so much better than in the photograph. It's just... great." He continued.

She nodded happily agreeing with him. "The prints are never as good."

Helena started getting restless and complaining about the park, so both he and Diana decided that they should get going. Once she had the address to the manor she walked them over to the elevator. They both stood there dawdling, each basking in the presence of the other, avoiding saying goodbye.

Bruce spoke up first.

"You have to let me pay you for it." He insisted watching her closely while he gestured to the painting in his arm.

She dared a small smile, but didn't look at him. "Don't be silly. I told you, I don't sell them, anymore."

"Well thank you very much, Diana. I really look forward to seeing you tonight." He lowered his face to her cheek and felt her smile against his lips.

-o-o-o-

As it's name would suggest Wayne Manor was a very grand family estate. The house itself was old dating back to the early 1800's but was expertly cared for. Diana surmised that it must've been as impressive back in the day as it seemed to her now. It reminded her of all of the Beaux Arts style buildings she'd seen when she studied in Paris with its rich, deep cornices and arched and pedimented doors and windows. The Wayne's that built this house must've fancied themselves to be american aristocracy.

The butler Alfred was waiting at the front door to take her coat and though she couldn't see them she could hear Bruce and Helena playing in a room nearby. The little girl's shrill laugh piercing through the otherwise silent mansion.

She followed Alfred's lead into the large dining room. The table was already set with what appeared to be roast beef with potatoes and beans and some kind of sauce. It smelled delicious.

A few moments later Bruce came into the dining room with Helena in tow, her little legs were wrapped around his waist. When she saw Diana, she quickly wormed out of her dad's arms and ran over to hug her. Diana felt her heart pounding in her chest when her eyes met Bruce's for the first time that night. He looked so handsome in his button down and slacks. The first few buttons of his shirt was undone, exposing his skin and light chest hair.

She wanted to kiss him there.

As they sat down to their meal Diana was privy to the intimate family dynamic that the Wayne's had. Alfred was the father-butler, who truly took so much pride in his job waiting on them. Yet at the same time was there was a slight authority he held over Bruce, slapping his hand away with a warning stare whenever he tried to pick at something or shooing him when he tried to help the old man set the the remaining courses of the meal on the table. Bruce would demand that Alfred do certain things, and other times ask him with an, "If it's not too much trouble" added to the end of the request. It was a curious rhythm but suited them perfectly.

On the other hand there was Helena. It was truly heartwarming to see how much her father and grandfather doted on her. The three of them were seated at one side of the table, Bruce and Alfred at each of the little one's sides. She never stopped talking the entire time, and often ran away from the dining table to retrieve things whenever she thought of something that she wanted to show her 'Miss Di'. But they were patient with her. Bruce cutting a piece of roast she was having difficulty with or Alfred wiping the sides of her mouth with a napkin.

Occasionally Bruce would look up at Diana and smile. Or tell her that he hoped she didn't feel left out all alone on the other side of their grand dining table. But she didn't feel alone, she liked that her being there didn't disturb them from their routine. It truly was amazing because, despite the largeness of the manor it's walls held familiar warmth and love, that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Not since she was a girl growing up with her mother. Not since Steve. It still hurt her to think about him, she wondered how he was doing… if he was ok.

When dinner was over Alfred excused himself with Helena so that he could put her to bed. Diana had insisted that she head home so that Bruce could be with her. But he wouldn't hear of it, explaining that she preferred her grandfather to put her to bed because he told the better stories.

Instead, Bruce invited Diana to retire with him to the sitting room with the rest of the wine from the bottle they'd opened during the meal. He motioned for her sit on the couch while he lit the fireplace.

And the perfection continues, he's kind and smart… she watched him squatting to poke the logs. His ass isn't half bad either.

"I wanted to tell you earlier, but I got interrupted by Helena. You look really beautiful tonight." He told her taking a seat next to her.

"Thank you." Her voice was soft and husky. Her body angled towards his, one arm was resting on the backrest of the couch propping her head up and the other on her lap, her fingers traveling along a pleat that formed in her blue dress because of how she was sitting.

He scooted a little closer. She was smiling but her eyes weren't on him, instead she was looking across the room at the fire, she seemed content and it made him swell with warmth to see her like this.

He gently turned her to face him, his hand lingering on her chin. "I'm really glad you came. I didn't actually think you would… I hope you didn't feel like you had too."

She brought her finger to her full red lips and shushed him softly with a smile. "Shh… I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be."

He gave her a crooked grin. "That's great — You're great."

She seemed amused sitting back a little and tucking her long hair behind her ear. "You told me my painting was great. Am I great like the painting?" She teased lightly.

"You know what I mean." He added sheepishly, "Years from now I may have to thank my daughter for having the balls to do what I couldn't." When her features crinkled in confusion he continued. "She basically asked you out for me." Then he turned to fill their wine glasses, before handing one to her.

"You know," she spoke slowly — cautiously almost, taking a sip of her wine. "I was secretly hoping you'd ask me out when I gave you my card. But then you didn't call, so I thought you weren't interested. But when I received the flowers yesterday, then I knew..."

Her revelation made his heart soar. He flashed her another smile showing off his perfect teeth. " I would've called. I didn't because of my best friend. He kept telling me you only gave me the card because it was the professional thing to do. I told him dude, you haven't seen this girl, she's talented and smart and the hottest woman I've ever seen!" He confessed.

Diana's felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. So he did think she was hot.

She arched her eyebrow as she leaned closer and whispered to him. "Let's not lay it on thick, ok? I've already decided you're getting to at least first base tonight."

Bruce's face lit up like a kid at Christmas. He always appreciated directness in a woman. She was so close to him and the sight of her cleavage in her dress (he could tell she wasn't wearing a bra) and the smell of her perfume were clouding his judgement. Then there were the key words… at least.

"I mean it, though — look at you." He motioned to her dress. Only Diana could pull off a dress that was so sexy but still carry herself in a way that it never seemed inappropriate.

She was looking down at her dress as though he'd pointed out something wrong with it, so to placate her he added. "I don't want you to think that all I want is sex — I mean, I want to… do that with you, but I also want to get to know you." He cringed bringing his palm to his face in embarrassment, god I'm just digging myself into a hole.

She giggled and pulled his hand away so he'd look at her. "It's ok Bruce, we're both adults. I'm definitely not a virgin... we're attracted to each other. I'd say it's ok for us to think and talk about sex… with each other." She reassured him, moving closer and slightly leaning her body closer to his. She breathed deeply through parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest drew his eyes down.

It was like if something snapped in his brain, before he could think about it his lips were on hers. She kissed him back chastely at first, their mouths moving it tandem. After a moment she started teasing his mouth with her tongue. He reciprocated without hesitation using one arm to pull their body's closer while the fingers of his other hand entangled themselves in her hair. He tugged on it gently eliciting a moan from her. The erotic sound sent a shock wave from his mouth all the way down to his cock.

They both used their hands caressing, touching, tantalising. Wherever Bruce's fingers connected with Diana's skin they caused heat to rise. It was too much yet not enough at the same time. She knew she wanted — no needed more. Pushing herself up onto her knees she put one leg over his lap so she was now straddling him, never breaking the kiss.

Bruce's hands found her hips he gripped them firmly. It took all of his self control not to thrust his hips up to hers bringing their cores together. He was careful; he wanted her to set the pace. Diana wasn't as courteous. She was wanton in her need for him. Her hands roamed freely and when that wasn't enough she replaced them with her lips. Wet kisses trailed from his lips to his jawline down to his chest.

She ached for him.

Her fingers deftly curled around his as she broke the kiss. They were panting their eyes locked on each other. She brought his hands up to her chest.

"Touch me Bruce." She pleaded, her expression pained with need.

"You sure? We can take it slow, you know." He insisted looking into the deep blue pools that were her eyes.

"I don't want to go slow. I want you."

Bruce didn't need to be told again. In one smooth motion he lifted her in his arms and walked over to the fur rug that was in front of the fireplace, setting her down gently. He was on top of her now. Kissing her with more urgency than before. There was something so erotic about Diana in this moment. Everything about her screamed sex, her whole body luring every trace of testosterone in his system.

He pushed her dress up inch by inch. His mouth and tongue assaulting any newly exposed skin. He listened to her moans to judge what she liked. When he took the nipple of her right breast into his mouth, her back arched upwards and the most sensuous sound escaped her lips.

That was it. He needed to be in her now. He quickly pulled away from her dramatically ripping his shirt off bringing out a happy giggle from Diana as a fury of buttons fell in every direction. His pants and boxers followed immediately after.

The both paused for a moment appraising each other. She looked gorgeous her face was flushed a very gentle red, her hair pooling around her like black molten gold. She had the most beautiful breasts, full and soft, her pink nipples contracted against the cool air.

When his eyes lowered to her black lace panties he knew that he wanted nothing more than to feel her around him. She reached out and grabbed him firmly in her hand, she jerked him off slowly watching his reactions through her lashes. When he tensed up and pulled away she groaned in protest looking up at him like a petulant child.

"I have to go get a condom babe." He told her apologetically.

"There's one in my clutch." She replied quickly. Taking his thick member once again in her hand making him shudder. He grabbed the clutch finding the rubber and slipping it onto himself.

Within moments his mouth was on hers again he kissed her roughly with desperate need, while his hand was in between them rubbing on her clit causing her to arch upwards and moan loudly into the kiss.

When Bruce entered her, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, it made him buck his hips pushing all of his length into her with one stroke. She was so wet and felt so good that he knew he wouldn't last long. As his pace quickened, so did her breathing. He brought their bodies together so there was no space in between. The pleasant friction of their brushing chests caused her to gasp.

His thrusts started becoming more and more frantic she held him tightly her fingers digging into the skin of his back. He could tell she was close, her muscles clenched around him and her breathing becoming erratic and strained.

"Let it go, Diana. Let it go." He whispered in her hair, cradling her to him. Four hard thrusts later and she disintegrated around him, her body shuddering with each wave of her orgasm. Her body stilled as he moved inside her, and he felt her tense then gradually relax.

A smile slowly spread across her face.

With joy he sped after her until he collapsed next to her, a curse of wonder escaping his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

On Monday morning, Bruce stood under the warm spray of his shower, thinking.

The day before he'd woken up to an empty bed. At first he thought that Diana had slipped out to the bathroom, or maybe Alfred had asked her to have breakfast with him, but she was nowhere to be found. She didn't text or call.

All of Sunday morning it played on his mind while he spent time with Helena, eventually when his daughter was distracted watching television he decided to call her.

It had not gone as expected. She was pleasant and somewhat friendly, but there was a noticeable aloofness in her responses that Bruce found disappointing. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He was convinced that they'd both enjoyed themselves on Saturday night. So convinced that we was excited to ask her out on a real date. But given her less than warm reception during their very brief conversation, he'd decided not to.

He pressed a large hand against the tiled wall of the shower, dunking his head under the falling water. He wondered why she'd retreated. Had he said or done something to offend her? Had he hurt her? He was big, and he knew that sometimes he was unconsciously rough. But he thought he was careful with her. He'd let her set the pace. Besides, she appeared interested in him when they went to bed. Her kisses, which he could still feel against his lips, had seemed genuine. Had she regretted them? Had she changed her mind about him?

The puzzle that was Diana Prince provoked him during the entirety of Sunday, causing great distraction during the time he was trying to spend with Helena before she went back to her mother. But he was determined to solve the puzzle and he would not delay.

He'd worked diligently all morning and at half past eleven decided to head down to the gallery and invite her to lunch. When he walked in Donna, her assistant, immediately showed him to her office. Knocking twice, he entered quickly shutting the door behind him knowing that Donna's prying ears were perked to listen to their conversation.

She looked up at him from her paperwork, her expression neutral.

"Let me take you to lunch." He was hoping to will her into acceptance with his crooked smile.

"I have a lot of work to do." She spoke calmly. But the knuckles of her right hand were turning white because she was gripping the edge of her desk so tightly. He was clearly making her uncomfortable. He took that as a good sign.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of her, he placed his arms on the desk leaning forward. "Talk to me, Diana. What is it? Did I do something wrong on Saturday?" His voice dropped lower, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, of course not." She replied looking at him remorsefully for a split second before averting her eyes. "I have a lot of work to do. If you want we can have dinner later this week."

"That's it then? You're just going to give me the cold shoulder?"

"No." she sighed.

"Well come on then, grab your coat. There's a bistro down the street. We can talk about Saturday night." He walked over to the door, his hand on the doorknob, waiting.

Diana's mouth popped open, but no sound came out. Her mouth closed, her fingertips pressed to her forehead as she gathered her thoughts. "My employees will see. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"Tell them the truth, that it's just lunch not a marriage proposal. Besides, it's none of their business anyway." He released the doorknob, walked over to her and held his hand out to help her stand. "I thought we were friends, Diana."

She watched as his lips bent into a frown trying not to be swayed by his expression. But the quiet tone of disappointment in his words, wounded her.

"Ok." she took his hand as she stood up and he tucked some of her hair out of her face.

She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, allowing herself to enjoy his touch. Bruce took her action as an invitation and joined their lips in a chaste but firm kiss. When she smiled against his mouth and kissed him back, he knew they'd be ok.

-o-o-o-

"Are you going to tell me what happened on Saturday night? I was so worried that I did something wrong." Bruce sat down across from Diana at a moderately secluded table at the back of the dining room of the bistro.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Bruce." she reassured him fidgeting with the silverware on the mat in front of her. "I just think that we're doing this whole thing backwards."

He waited patiently for her to elaborate.

"You have a daughter. We shouldn't be so careless about things. It's not good for her, she needs stability. Until we know where we're going, maybe it would be better if we keep her out of it and if we went slower. When I left, it was because I didn't think it would be ok for us to be doing the walk of shame in front of your four year old." She sighed frustratedly. "The last thing I want is for you to think I'm telling you how to raise your daughter, but I'm pretty sure her mother wouldn't like this."

Bruce knew she was right. It had never dawned on him until now. He never had one of his dates come back to the house when Helena was there. Prior to Diana, he'd always insisted that his dates took place during the week. Frankly, he was pretty sure Diana was the only woman that the little girl had seen at the manor except for her mother. He'd carried things too far. He wondered if Helena understood anything that was happening. She didn't let on if she did. And her mother certainly hadn't called him up, mentioning anything. It was definitely a good thing that Diana left when she did. She'd helped him avert disaster.

"I hadn't thought of it that, way. No one I've dated has met her. I don't have the best track record with women. I haven't had a lot of serious relationships. I do want to try with you, though. I like you." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his admission made him self conscious. But he wanted to be honest with her. He wanted her to know that he was going to pursue her seriously.

Their waitress chose that exact moment to come take their order. Bruce looked at the menu and frustratedly called out the first thing he saw, upset by the interruption and impatient for her to leave. Diana however, welcomed the arrival of the waitress, mulling over the menu slowly, discussing the specials and most popular dishes. Taking her dear time before finally deciding on a caesar salad and cold pressed orange juice.

When the waitress left, she turned her eyes to look out of the window next to their table.

"Did, you hear what I said, Diana? I'm serious."

She looked at him with both regret and pain in her cool blue eyes. "You don't even know me. Saturday was a mistake, I don't usually move that fast. I was just — I used questionable judgement."

"I thought that was the point of this whole dating thing, getting to know each other. Besides it's like you said the other day, we're adults. We can do what we like, can't we?"

"You don't understand, I'm really…" she sighed, "complicated. You don't want to -" She trailed off before completing her sentence.

Bruce reached across the table gently taking her hand in his. "I'm not going to bring up all my shit now and put in on the table Diana, I mean, I have baggage too. It's not all rainbows and unicorns for me either. But that's the point of this. Maybe together we can find what we both need." He angled his head downwards trying to get her to look him in the eye. "All we can do is try. I like you… a lot. I'm not going to waste your time."

Diana thought it was a bit scandalising how candid he was with her, yet she couldn't stop herself from blushing at his sweet words. "What are you, the super persistent male lead in one of those cheesy romcoms?"

He flashed her wide smile, happy that she was lightening up. "Only if it works."

When their meal came they, fell into conversation easily. Bruce complained about the taste of the soup that he'd haphazardly ordered, so Diana suggested that he have some of her salad. He graciously refused. His muscles needed feeding and 'that bird food' as he'd called it, would not cut it. He elected, instead, to order the grilled chicken. As they enjoyed their meal Bruce noticed that she was not only extremely sexy with her red lipstick and curve hugging white dress, she was very funny. She had a dry, deadpan sense of humor and once or twice he found himself choking back a laugh as they ate.

By the time they'd finished sharing dessert, an act that teetered on the edge of being one of the most erotic moments of his life, he knew he wasn't ready to say good bye. He wanted to ask her out to dinner later that evening, but she beat him to it, suggesting instead that he come over to her place on Friday night.

"I know you thought I was lying earlier but i do have a ton of stuff to do at work. Business has been very good since you visited, Mr Wayne. Plus I leave for a three day trip to New York, tomorrow."

"What the hell am I supposed to do if I have to wait until Friday, to see you?" He'd curled his pinky finger around hers as a peace offering, though she could see that he was trying his best not to look annoyed.

"I don't know… take up knitting or something."

He groaned.

"I'll make dinner." She added with a wink. "Though by 'make' I really mean take things out of wrappers and put them onto plates."

He perked up at the mention of food. "Maybe it's best if I handle dinner then. I can actually cook. How about I bring the meal over to your place?"

"Sounds great." She moved forward to kiss him, her mouth was soft and warm. She teased him ever so lightly with her tongue then pulled away quickly before he could even respond.

"I'm sorry I really need to get back to work. But I'm looking forward to spending time with you on Friday. Text me!" and with one last peck on his lips, she left.

-o-o-o-

On Wednesday evening, just as Bruce was packing up his briefcase to head over to the gym, Clark called inviting him to grab some drinks with him and Lois. When he walked into the pub, Clark was sitting at their usual table waving out to him.

"Where's Lois?" He asked as he took his seat.

"Stuck in traffic. She'll be a bit late. Oh! I completely forgot I'm covering the Metropolis vs Gotham game on Friday I have a plus one if you want it."

Bruce took a swig of his beer choosing his next words cautiously. "I can't. I already have plans."

He hadn't mentioned anything more about Diana since he texted Clark about the painting the previous Friday. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to say now, knowing that Clark would immediately get excited and bombard him with questions like if he was a criminal on one of those prime time crime dramas. These were harsh realities of being best friends with a journalist and Bruce deigned as it was his cross to bear.

"Oh another date lined up already, huh?" Clark enquired playfully, chucking a peanut into his mouth.

"Yes." Bruce was going to play the short answer game. If he offered the least amount of information possible, maybe Clark would get bored and drop it. Unfortunately for Bruce, Clark was used to this game. It never changed in all the years that they knew each other, and by now, he'd learned how to read between the lines to get the true meaning of Bruce's words.

"Well sheesh, are you going to at least give me a name?"

"Diana."

"Holy cow! The chick from the art gallery? What happened on Saturday with the painting?"

"Well, she gave me the painting... then we had dinner Saturday night."

"Wait, Saturday night? Wasn't Trudy there?"

"I will literally murder you! Quit it with the Trudy shit."

Clark chuckled. "Don't change the subject."

Begrudgingly, Bruce explained to Clark what took place during the weekend, conveniently leaving out the sex. It wasn't that he didn't usually share this information with his friend, but what happened with Diana felt sacred to him and he felt that saying it out loud, would make it seem less magical. But Clark could tell in an instant that Bruce was keeping something from him.

His eyes widened maniacally as he put everything together, "You totally had sex with her! Oh my god, why didn't you tell me dude? How do you move this quickly? I'll never understand. How was it?"

"How was what?" Lois interrupted with a smirk. They'd been so engrossed in their conversation that neither had seen her arrive.

Clark fidgeted like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Nothing!" He half shouted too quickly.

"Fine! I don't wanna know!" Lois said moving her hands up in surrender. She removed her coat and scarf folding them over the back of her chair, and leaned over to give her husband a kiss. "You going to get me a drink, Smallville?"

"Yes Lois." His eyes rolled playfully, "What do you want? A Martini?"

"No I'm trying to take it easy tonight. I'm still jet lagged." She said with a chuckle. "A soda will be great."

Clark stood to go order her drink while Bruce observed the way his fiancee's hand was lingering protectively near her stomach since she'd arrived. He'd seen that before, when Selina was pregnant with Helena. When Clark was out of earshot, he gestured to her stomach. "Did you tell him, yet?"

She looked up at him while taking her seat. He could see how pale and tired she looked. So unlike her usual feisty self. "I haven't." She glanced over to the bar. Clark was distracted by the game on the television. "I've been bleeding a little. My doctor thinks I'll miscarry." Lois was blinking back tears now. Bruce took her hand and squeezed it, silently giving her the comfort that she needed. "Some things are hard for him to hear. I thought it would be better when I know for sure."

"I think you should tell him. We always joke about how emotional and sensitive he his, but really, you need him right now. He's stronger than we give him credit for. In the meantime, go to Gotham General and see Dr. Walden. He's the best OBGYN in the city… he delivered Helena. I'll call ahead of time and tell him that I sent you. I'll cover any of the expenses."

"You know he hates it when you pay for things, Bruce." She dabbed the moisture spilling from inner corners of her eyes with a napkin.

He looked over to the bar where Clark was engrossed in conversation with the bartender. No doubt talking about the game. "When he has a healthy baby, he'll forgive me."

-o-o-o-

At 6pm sharp on Friday evening, Diana strolled into the lobby of her apartment building. Bruce was already waiting for her, seated on one of the chairs near the elevator. He was distractedly typing onto the touchpad on his phone. She took her time appraising him from afar. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck. His hair was a mess.

To her he looked like Christmas morning.

The staccato clicking of her heels as she approached made him look up from his phone. His smile was so wide and beautiful that her breath caught in her throat. He pulled her against him his mouth catching hers in a kiss. Time felt like it stopped as his large hands smoothed up her sides, she felt herself melting into him.

"I missed you." She broke the kiss and released a breath she didn't know she was holding, resting her head on his chest. The rhythm of his beating heart calmed her.

"You have no idea." He guided her to the elevator still holding her close to his side.

-o-o-o-

Bruce was a damn fine cook. He made lasagna from scratch, serving it with a very impressive homemade garlic bread that was so delicious, Diana vowed right then and there that she would never buy garlic bread again. She'd simply bribe him to make it for her.

He arched an eyebrow but broke into a smile when she moaned seductively over his cooking, requesting seconds. He was used to cooking for Alfred who was never impressed by his skills in the kitchen… Bruce often had to remind Alfred that unlike him, not everyone had a culinary degree from the Cordon Bleu.

Bruce had been brought up to be the ideal guest. He was polite, cheerful, maintaining an adequate flow of neutral (albeit occasionally flirtatious) conversation. Diana was halfway through her second serving when she realized how much she was enjoying his company. He was easy to be around, funny, and incredibly down to earth. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes and smelled of shaving cream and a rugged, masculine soap. She tried very hard not to sniff him whenever he was near her.

And failed.

When Bruce brought out his homemade crème brulée, Diana thought she'd died and gone to (culinary) heaven.

"It's so good," she raved between mouthfuls, beaming so widely her eyes glimmered. "You've been holding out on me. I had no idea you could cook like this."

"Alfred taught me to cook." Bruce sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "He used to say that I owed it to myself to learn how to cook, you know, because I eat so damn much."

Diana put down her spoon with a giggle. "Dinner was great, Bruce. I'm sure Alfred would be proud and my stomach is very, very happy. Between Saturday and today — I haven't had a meals this great since I was home over the holidays last year."

Bruce seemed appalled standing up and helping her clear the table. "We'll need to work on feeding you better then. Besides, I'm very happy that we got to do this tonight, I was going crazy without you. I mean no offence, but you can't leave a guy hanging high and dry after the night we spent together. It's like you wanted me to suffer."

She brought her hands to her chest pretending to be hurt by his words.

He changed the subject with a small smile on his face. "How was New York?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "Productive. I had a few meetings with some potential new artists that we might be collaborating with in the future. It went really well. Plus I got to see my mom."

"That's great. She lives in the city then?"

She shook her head. "Rochester. Only since I left for college, though. We moved around a lot before that."

He reached to pick up the frame of the photo that had caught his eye last time he'd been in her apartment. It was perched on the shelf behind the couch, that they were now sitting on. "That's her talking to the redhead, right?"

She smiled fondly, sticking a single finger out to stroke the frame. "Yes. And the redhead is my best friend, Etta. We met in Uni, now she lives in Rochester too. She has a little boy."

He didn't mean to pry but curiosity got the better of him. "And the guy? An ex?"

Diana's eyes widened and she shook her head, looking very uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry. That was a personal question." Bruce quickly returned the frame to its rightful place.

He was about to change the subject to something lighter when Diana spoke.

"That's Steve. I … I can't … he's not an ex..." Her voice trailed off and Bruce could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes before she stood up abruptly and walked back to the kitchen.

He hung his head a little as he followed her. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She had her back to him as she reached up to retrieve a pair of wine glasses from the top shelf.

"Let me do that." He stood behind her, his chest whispering against her back, as he effortlessly reached the glasses. He felt her stiffen next to him and heard her sharp intake of breath. He quickly placed the glasses on the counter next to her and withdrew, cursing himself once again for unthinkingly startling her.

Diana internally berated herself for being so edgy. She wanted to be closer to Bruce. She wanted to tell him... But she'd kept that part of her life a secret for so long, that somehow she didn't know how to find the words.

She turned and gave him a watery smile. "I can't talk about him right now. I'm sorry."

Bruce leaned against the opposite counter. "That's fine. But I'm a good listener and I care about you, Diana. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here." He reached over to squeeze her fingers.

She pulled him to her and kissed him tenderly, expressing with her lips what she couldn't with her words. That she was grateful to have met him. That she cared about him. That she trusted him. She wrapped her arms around him never wanting to let go.


End file.
